An American Schoolgirl at Hogwarts
by Dala1
Summary: There's a new student at Hogwarts and she becomes interested in both Harry and Draco--but wait! If she's not a Mary Sue, then what *is* she?! Our two favorite boys are about to find out...(Sixth and final letter added)
1. In Which We Meet Eva

Title: An American Schoolgirl at Hogwarts  
Author: Dala  
Rating: PG for this part, nothing naughty--yet ;)  
Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, eventually  
Chapter: 1/?  
Archive: Ask and ye shall receive  
Spoilers: All four books  
Feedback: Is the nectar on which I live  
Disclaimer: The characters and situations of this fanfic belong to J.K. Rowling and Co, except for Eva, Amy, and the assorted cast of characters I've created  
Author's Note: It'll all be in the form of Eva's letters to her best pal Amy. Enjoy!  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
April 12th  
  
Dear Amy,   
  
  
I miss you! I miss the weather back home! I even miss Calculus!  
  
That being said, I have to admit that England isn't SO bad. Our good old Cali has it beat any day, but I think I could get used to living here--at least until my parents aren't legally allowed to drag me halfway around the world with them.  
  
Daddy's new job for their Ministry seems to going well. Mom is still adjusting, but she's absolutely enchanted by the town of Hogsmeade,which is where they live now (it's right near my school). I swear, if I hear the word "quaint" or "precious" ONE MORE TIME, I'm going to turn her into a mouse and sic Chessie on her. Chessie, by the way, is settling down better than I thought she would. She got into a fight with a big tabby yesterday, but my scrappy little calico can hold her own, as your poor Dobermans can attest (give Chief a kiss for me!)  
  
Alright, now that this boring crap is all taken care of, I'll get to what you really want to hear about: the school. It's called Hogwarts and it's pretty prestigious. I'm writing this at the end of my first day, so I haven't actually had any classes yet. But I met all the teachers earlier. The principal--headmaster, I mean. Headmaster. Gotta keep all these weird British words straight. The headmaster is none other than Albus Dumbledore. I know that means diddly to you, sad little Muggle that you are (haha), but take my word for it, the man is famous. And powerful. And he looks like my grandpa. Still, meeting him was pretty damn cool. I'm to be put in the sixth year here, which I guess is like junior year in the States. Oh god, listen to me, I'm already referring to my home like the people around here do! The other professors are pretty weird--one of them, I swear I'm not joking, is a ghost. That should be interesting.   
  
And what about the student body, you ask? In particular the MALE student body? Ame-babe, I've said it before and I'll say it again: foreign guys are HOT. And there are a lot of them here. At our high school there were a few beautiful boys, mostly the jocks, but here good looks seem to be the norm instead of the exception. Just from walking in the hallways, I noticed a very cute one, about our age, with an Irish accent. You know what a sucker I am for Irishmen. But before I go in for the kill on that one, I've got to mention other prospects. I haven't caught any names except one: Harry Potter. You remember Harry Potter? I'm sure I've told you about him before. He's probably the most famous boy in the whole wizarding world, and definitely the most famous at this school. Sadly, though, I didn't see him today. The other one who especially caught my eye was a tall, slim blonde. Cheekbones of a model, disaffected air of a rich intellectual. Something about him just drew me in, Amy. I'm going to find out who he is or die trying.  
  
As far as my living situation goes, the professors have given me my own room, which I am SO grateful for. I'd really hate living in a dorm. But officially I'm in this sort of team/group thing--there are four of them. Each group lives together and has classes together. I'm in the one called Gryffindor, even though I'm not in their quarters. You wouldn't believe how they decided that, either--it has to do with a smelly old hat.   
  
Unfortunately, it's getting late here. I don't know how late it would be in California right now; I never bothered to learn those time differences. First class tomorrow is Defense against the Dark Arts. Woo-hoo. Maybe we'll learn the stuff my magic tutor hid from me.  
  
  
  
Love from your foreva-eva-Eva  
  
~~~~~~~~ 


	2. In Which Eva Meets Harry and Draco

April 17th  
  
Dear Amy,  
  
I meant to write you yesterday, but I've been kept really busy around here. Some of these teachers just PILE on the work, I swear . . . Professor McGonagall I like, for all that she's really strict. Professor Flitwick is this tiny little man who teaches charms, he's all right. Hagrid does Care of Magical Creature -- he's huge, Ame, supposed to be half-giant, but he's really friendly. I have trouble understanding what he's saying sometimes, though.   
  
My least favorite teacher is ABSOLUTELY Professor Snape, who teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts (way more boring than it sounds, trust me). He's very broody and dark and he's a jerk to all the Gryffindors. He gave me a detention my very first class for "talking back", which apparently is his blanket term for all polite questions asked by his students.  
  
But that wasn't why I started this letter. I have to tell you about the kids I've met. In Snape's class I got paired up with the famous Harry Potter, who's really very nice, not stuck-up at all, and kinda cute. I tried not to act all weird around him, since I bet people do that because of who he is, and he seemed to appreciate the effort. He's always hanging around with Ron Weasley and Hermione (isn't that a pretty name? Lots of people here have interesting names) Granger. Somebody told me that Hermione's the girl to see for all schoolwork help, so I chased her down when I got a little confused in Arithmancy. She's very nice too, SUPER smart (reminds me a little of you, O Human Dictionary). Eventually Ron and Harry showed up and I hung around with the three of them for awhile. They introduced me to some other Gryffindors, including Ron's sister Ginny (who looks just like him, all tall and red-haired). And the Irish boy, I bet you're asking? His name's Seamus Finnigan, but he's got a Hufflepuff girlfriend. Boo-hoo.  
  
Oh yeah, you asked me about the blond boy in your last letter -- I'm getting to him. So all this happened on the third day. Someone in the common room (that's like a den, each house has one) made a crack about Slytherin House that had everybody except little ole me in stitches. Of course I didn't want to look like an idiot, so I waited till breakfast the next morning to ask Hermione what the deal was. She got pretty glowery and said there was bad blood between Slytherin and Gryffindor -- well between Slytherin and ALL the other houses, really, but especially ours. She started to mention Harry, but didn't get a chance to finish because the owl post came then. The whole matter slipped my mind.  
  
Later that day, just after lunch, I saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione walking up the path to the school. I thought I'd go say hi, but then I noticed our Mystery Guy sitting by the lake, flicking stones at the giant squid. So instead I sauntered over to him and introduced myself.  
  
He stared at me like I'd just sprouted wings. At first he was surprised, but then he got all hostile.  
  
"You're in Potter's little clique," he said, practically spitting the name out.  
  
"So?" I still had my damn hand out. You know how stubborn I am.  
  
He started to look suspicious. "Is this some kind of prank?"  
  
I put on my best Hollywood smile. "Nope. I'm Eva, and you're . . .?"  
  
"Draco Malfoy." The way he said it, I think he was expecting me to recoil. When I didn't he said very slowly, as though I was very stupid, "Lucius Malfoy's son?"  
  
I didn't know who that was and I told him so. He looked thunderstruck. "Don't know . . ."  
  
I said I was sorry. I was still holding out my hand.  
  
His lovely face broke into a sneer. "Leave me alone."  
  
Undaunted, I replied simply, "No."  
  
Draco stared at me again.  
  
I looked down at my proffered hand. "Look, Draco, the meaner you are to me, the nicer I'll be to you. I can last for a long time, too. It took me weeks to wear my best friend down." (Sorry, Amy, but you've gotta admit that you were a bitch to me when we first met.)  
  
He looked at the sky in exasperation. "If I shake your hand, you'll go away?"  
  
"For now." I'm nothing if not accommodating.  
  
He sighed and finally took my hand. You can tell a lot about a person from their handshake and I like his right away. We shook firmly (though he still looked pissed), he let go first, and I called "see you around!" over my shoulder as I walked away. I discovered that the Three Amigos had stopped dead and were also staring at me as though I'd sprouted wings, and grown a tail to boot. I was really getting sick of that look.  
  
"If you keep it up long enough, your faces'll freeze like that," I told them seriously.  
  
"What--" Hermione wanted to know.  
  
"WHY--" Ron sputtered.  
  
"How--" Harry started to ask. It looked as funny as it sounds.  
  
I shrugged. "I like meeting new people."  
  
"That's DRACO MALFOY," said Harry, his voice dropping ominously.  
  
"So he told me, eventually," I said.  
  
Ron shook his head. "Eva, Draco Malfoy is not new people."  
  
"He's had it in for Harry since day one," Hermione explained.  
  
"He's a jackass!" Ron shouted.  
  
"Not just Harry, either -- he's mean to EVERYONE."  
  
"His parents are Dark wizards, off following You-Know-Who--"  
  
I couldn't help myself. I thought of how he'd been sitting all alone and I said, "Poor thing."  
  
"POOR THING?!" Ron cried indignantly.  
  
"Well, yeah. Obviously if he didn't go with his parents, he's not in You-Know-Who's gang." My magic tutor always said that to avoid something's name was to give it even greater power over you, but people get all scandalized if you say Voldemort.  
  
Ron had clearly labeled me insane. "That's NOT the point!"  
  
Hermione leaned close in a conspirational manner. "We think he's one of their spies."  
  
"If you ask me," I said, "he seems like the all-talk and no-action type."  
  
They thought a minute. Ron admitted grudgingly, "True, mostly he just talks. A LOT," he added venomously.  
  
"We're going to be late for Transfiguration," said Harry suddenly. He'd been so quiet that I'd forgotten he was even there.  
  
And that was the end of the Draco Malfoy conversation. Since then I've personally seen him being an ass, but I don't know, I paid attention in psych and he seems to be acting out way too much to mean any of it. And there's something else going on between him and Harry, something under the surface.   
  
I swear I'll get to the bottom of this. Sorry this letter was so long. I'm about to fall asleep at my desk! Tell everyone at school that I said hi and WRITE BACK SOON!!!  
  
Love,  
  
Sleuth Eva  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
Author's note: 1. I don't actually know if Ginny is tall, but I thought she should be.   
2. I made Snape DADA teacher because, hey, I like him and I think he deserves it :) 


	3. In Which Eva Figures Things Out

April 24th  
  
Amy--  
  
I'm reading your latest right now, my dear, and I can answer your primary question: why didn't Harry join his friends in condemning Draco Malfoy?  
  
The answer: BECAUSE HARRY AND DRACO ARE IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER!!!!!  
  
All that rancor? All that fighting?All that tension? It's SEXUAL tension, and frankly I'm surprised that no one else seems to notice it.  
  
Only it's complicated. From my assessment of the sitch (and I'm generally good at this type of thing), Draco knows that he's in love with Harry but he doesn't know that Harry loves him in return; HARRY doesn't even know that he loves Draco! Oy, this is going to be a job. I'm a little disappointed because I had the ghost of a plan for either (maybe both, muahaha) of these boys and myself, but alas, I will step aside and let fate take its course. Translation: Mama Eva is going to set them up. Big time. Harry and Draco won't even know what hit them.  
  
Gotta start by getting one or both of them to admit their feelings to me (in Harry's case, to admit his feelings to himself). I think I'll pick Draco, since I already know, and the whole school already knows, that he's gay. Poor Harry's still in the closet. Or maybe he swings both ways? Perhaps I should try to seduce him and find out?  
  
Hmmm. I'm in a pickle. And it's very green and smelly. I need your advice, babes, and I need it QUICK. I feel like the temperature of all Hogwarts is going to start boiling whenever Harry and Draco are in a room together. They've got to get freaky with one another in the worst way.  
  
--Eva Triumphant!  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
Author's Note: I know this one is rather short, but the next one is much longer. 


	4. In Which Eva Plays A Little Game

Author's Note: moving up to a PG-13 rating for some snogging and a little groping -- not slash (not yet :)  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
April 28th  
  
Dear Amy,  
  
Well well well. You should be very pleased with yourself. I tried out your idea and it worked like a charm. My darling boys aren't together yet, but I've set the pot a-boiling.  
  
Flashback to last night, midnightish. By now I've heard horror tales of the janitor-caretaker man, Mr. Filch, and his evil cat Mrs. Norris. Not to mention the fact that there are tons of ghosts, a nasty poltergeist, and unknown things prowling the halls of Hogwarts. But, being me, I just had to set out and explore the school by night anyway. I was wandering down one of the school corridors when I thought I heard a yowl from around the corner. I thought it might be Chessie, since I hadn't seen her all day, so I started to go towards it. Just then a door opened on my left and something yanked me inside, clamping a hand over my mouth so I couldn't make a sound.  
  
Okay, here's the really weird part. I could feel a body pressed against me, I could feel a hand on my mouth and another around my waist. But I couldn't SEE anybody. Naturally I started to freak out.  
  
"It's me Harry," I heard a voice whisper in my ear. "Stand still!"  
  
I heard the rustle of some delicate fabric being drawn over me, blocking the door from view.  
  
"Harry, what are you--"  
  
"Shh!" he hissed. "It's Mrs. Norris and Filch'll be right behind!"  
  
So I shut up. I tell you what, being effectively snuggled against a good-looking boy was a harrowing experience, but I managed to get through it somehow.  
  
After a few minutes past he deemed it safe and let me go. I turned around to see him emerge slowly: first his arm, then his head -- a disembodied head -- then his hand worked in midair and he could be seen fully. A silvery cloak fell to the floor. Harry explained that it was an invisibility cloak he'd gotten from his father. How cool is THAT?  
  
I asked him what he was doing out at night and he said that he was practicing some spells the teachers hadn't taught us yet. I wanted to ask what they were, but he changed the subject quickly, asking ME what I was doing out at night. I told him I was just roaming around, chronic insomniac, etc. He was telling me sternly that I should go back -- and I was preparing to bitch him out -- when the door opened. And guess who came in?  
  
That's right, Draco Malfoy. You win a prize. Fly out to England and collect your lifetime supply of pink leiderhosen.  
  
Anyway, this is the part where it gets interesting, so I'm going to try and copy the dialogue as best as I can remember it.  
  
"Potter," he drawled with a sneer.   
  
"Malfoy," Harry ground out. Oh, beautiful, beautiful testosterone overdose. Wonderful display of male posturing.   
  
"Hello Eva," he said without looking at me. "Potter here trying to get you in trouble?"  
  
"Nope," I said cheerfully. "Just taking a midnight stroll."  
  
Harry frowned at me. "I can't believe you're on friendly terms with him," he muttered in an undertone.  
  
Draco stepped forward, puffed up like a very dangerous rooster. "What's that?" he said in a low, glittering voice. "Want to share?"  
  
Harry said nothing. He looked angry and just a bit -- just a TAD -- confused. 'Ha!' I thought triumphantly. 'He can't deny his feelings any longer!'  
  
But alarmingly Harry's fists were clenched and he drew himself up threateningly. Oh crap. I really didn't want them to bruise each other. I knew they'd be evenly matched in a magical fight -- unless Draco played dirty, as he was reputed to do. But physically it was a toss-up. Harry was a little heavier, yes, but Draco was taller and looked like he might be a touch quicker. What to do, what to do?  
  
I did the thing any sensible girl would do -- and then I did what you advised me to do. I sidled between them, one hand on either (mmmm) chest, and blurted out "Let's play Truth or Dare!"  
  
They both stared at me, but thankfully lost the brawling attitude.  
  
"Are you crazy?" Harry snapped.  
  
"Yes she is," Draco said, narrowing his eyes at me.  
  
"Aw come on, it'll be fun!"  
  
Both of them took a step back.  
  
"Absolutely not," Harry said in alarm.  
  
"No fucking way," Draco said calmly.  
  
I broke out the Million Dollar Pout then. The MDP, as you well know, has gotten me out of some very tough scrapes. There was that time I borrowed Daddy's enchanted Mazda for a joyride to San Francisco. And there was the time I superglued the bottoms of Darlene's $150 ballet slippers together. And there was that little incident involving Principal Abrams' toupee and Chessie's back claws. Oh yes, the MDP has served its mistress well. When I turned it on Draco and Harry, adding the Chocolate Lab Puppy-Dog Eyes, they didn't have a chance.  
  
Harry immediately turned pink and looked away, with a muttered "Oh, fine, whatever."  
  
Draco studied me intently. I started to think that maybe he was getting some inkling of what I was up to. Finally he said in a cool voice, "Yeah, sure, but I've never played before. How does it go?"  
  
Elated, I plopped down on the floor (we were in a deserted classroom, I forgot to mention that). The boys reluctantly followed me, Harry eyeing Draco suspiciously while Draco smirked at him in return.  
  
"Okay," I said, sitting Indian-style. "One person asks another person 'Truth or Dare?' and the other person picks either one, then the first person has to come up with a question or a dare."  
  
"Sounds harmless," Harry ventured. Hah. He's obviously never been to one of our slumber parties, eh? But I just smiled and said no, it wasn't.  
  
"Who goes first?" Draco wanted to know, sounding bored.   
  
"Whoever's oldest and whoever's youngest. My birthday's in May, when are   
yours?"  
  
"February," Draco said.  
  
"July," from Harry. He and Draco sized each other up for what had to be the twentieth time.  
  
This had worked out better than I could've planned. I sat back to watch the fireworks. "So Draco, you ask."  
  
He sighed, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. "This is so stupid."  
  
I kicked him gently. "Get on with it."  
  
"Truth or Dare?" he said to Harry in a monotone.  
  
Harry opened his mouth and I was sure he was about to say Dare, but he and Draco were staring each other down, and whatever Harry saw in his opponent's eyes made him change it to Truth.  
  
A flicker of surprise crossed Draco's face before it turned to scorn. "Scared, Potter?"  
  
"No," Harry replied quietly. Their eyes were still locked. THIS, Amy, is what I meant by sexual tension. Even from this measly paper, can't you just FEEL the vibes and the subtext?  
  
"It has to be a good question," I warned Draco, "or it doesn't count. None of this 'what's your favorite color' shit."  
  
"Fine. What's your favorite Quidditch team?"  
  
"THAT doesn't count!" I said as loud as my whisper would go.   
  
Surly, Draco muttered, "Give me a minute, then." He tilted his head, still looking at Harry, and thought. Finally he said in a voice that was trying to come off as bored but failing, "How can you stand living with those Muggles?" Okay, so it wasn't the soul-searching question I wanted, but it would do.  
  
"I've got nowhere else to go," said Harry sharply.  
  
"Why not go out on your own?"  
  
"I'm underage! I can't live by myself!"  
  
"Sure you can. I do."  
  
"But YOUR parents are still--" Harry stopped suddenly.   
  
Draco looked away. "Alive?" he said softly. "Not to me, they aren't."  
  
Harry looked like he was reconfiguring something in his brain. And also like he'd been hiding something in his answer -- remind me to ask him about that again some time.  
  
"Now what?" Draco asked harshly, his bravado returned.  
  
"It's Harry's turn. He asks me."  
  
"Right." Harry turned to me. "Truth or Dare, Eva?"  
  
"Truth," I answered promptly.  
  
Harry chewed his lip thoughtfully, trying to come up with a good question. I observed carefully how Draco's eyes were drawn to those lips before he caught himself -- and caught me looking. His mouth tightened like he was daring me to say something.  
  
"Any day now, Potter," he said in a clipped tone.  
  
Harry spared him a glare before speaking. "Okay. What's, um, what's your happiest childhood memory?"  
  
He and Draco shared a look that I STILL can't decipher, even as I'm writing this.  
  
"Easy," I said. "Sunday nights. It was the only day that my parents were both off work together, so we'd spend the whole day together. Church in the morning--" I made a face and Harry laughed. "Then we'd do something fun. When I was really little it was usually a trip to the park. Then I started getting creative at about seven and it was a craft, spaghetti necklaces or pinecone angels or something." They leaned closer, taking in my every word. "Every now and then there'd be a movie, but Dad preferred doing something more productive with his time. We'd make sock puppets and act out fairy tales," I said, smiling at the memory. Both of the boys were listening with this sort of hunger in their eyes that was heartbreaking to see. "After, we'd all help make dinner and eat at the dining room table with the fancy dishes, pretending we were a royal family. Daddy was the noble king, Mama was the beautiful queen, and I was the 'cute little scamp' of a princess . . ." I trailed off, thinking of living with anyone as cruel as Draco's father, as cold as Harry's Aunt Petunia, and I felt tears forming behind my eyes, so I stopped.  
  
"Anyway," I said, a little thickly. "That's it. Sundays."  
  
Draco sat back on his heels, his jaw set. Harry hugged himself unconsciously.   
  
"My turn." They were both quiet. The mood had definitely taken a turn for the quiet. "Draco, Truth or Dare?"  
  
"Dare," he said defiantly.  
  
"I dare you to pick Truth." He was NOT avoiding share-time as long as I could help it.  
  
He stared at me with his mouth open. "You can't do that!"  
  
"Yes I can." I know you can't, Amy, but THEY didn't know it.   
  
"Fine," Draco said, trying to look to look unconcerned. "Shoot."  
  
I had my question picked out, of course. "What's your greatest fear?"  
  
Harry was mightily interested in this. Draco stared down at the floor. "That's easy," he said dully. "Being a Malfoy."  
  
"But you ARE a Malfoy," said Harry in puzzlement.  
  
Draco shook his head, still not looking at either of us. "You don't understand. Being . . . being a MALFOY." And even I could hear all the connotations that came with the word. "I hate being me because it's -- it's never good enough, and it's never strong enough, and it's never what anybody wants. But I'd much rather be me than . . . my father, my father or anyone else in my family. I wouldn't do that -- I COULDN'T," he said, finally meeting Harry's eyes, his voice earnest  
.  
They stared at each other for a little while, Draco looking vulnerable and Harry looking conflicted. And I swear, Amy, neither of them moved but it felt like they were leaning forward, getting closer and closer . . . until Draco's back straightened like a steel rod and all his pain went behind those gray eyes again. "My turn," he said savagely. "Truth or Dare, Potter?"  
  
"Dare," Harry said, still flushing deeply with some emotion he couldn't name (but I could! It was LOVE, dammit!)  
  
"I dare you to kiss Eva."  
  
Oh wow.   
  
Harry blanched. "But I -- she -- we barely know each other!"  
  
"It's just a kiss," Draco said, smiling maliciously.  
  
Harry looked over at me. "Besides, she doesn't want to -- do you?"  
  
I shrugged. "Why not?" Hey, I like a good kiss every now and then.   
  
"You going to back down, Potter? Going to puss out like you always do?"  
  
"No!" Harry said fiercely. He leaned closer to me, clearly preparing for a quick little smooch, no tongue or hands involved.  
  
His head was blocking my line of sight, so I couldn't see Draco's face when he ordered, "And not just a peck on the cheek, either -- it has to last for, oh, let's say twenty seconds."  
  
"Fine," Harry gritted over his shoulder. He looked at me, anxious. I'd bet his palms were sweaty. It would've been adorable except that I didn't really think it was from the prospect of kissing me, exactly. "You all right with this, Eva?"  
  
"Peachy, Harry." So he moved in and kissed me. It was slow and sweet, that sort of kiss from a boy who's got natural talent at it. I don't think it was his first, but there can't have been too many before me. When Draco called time, I had a pleasant few dozen butterflies in the pit of my stomach.  
  
"Mmm," I said as he pulled away. "Nice."  
  
Harry grinned, looking embarrassed. Draco was looking at us both, an inscrutable expression on his face.  
  
"I go now, right?" Harry said. I nodded. Blahblahblah, you know the drill, except I picked Dare this time. He didn't even have to think before he said quickly, "I dare you to kiss Draco."  
  
Alright, this was starting to go in weird directions that we didn't foresee. I figured Draco's dare had just been to shake Harry up a little, and maybe get off on it in the meantime, but I couldn't fathom why HARRY was doing the same thing.  
  
Draco narrowed his eyes, looking Harry up and down. He seemed rather pleased.   
  
"Longer," Harry ordered. "A full minute."   
  
"Okay," I said, trying not to sound giddy. More fun for me!  
  
The object of my dare didn't come over to me like Harry did; he leaned back confidently and crooked a finger at me, still staring at Harry.  
  
I scooted over next to him and as I leaned in, he grabbed me and proceeded to kiss the hell out of me. There's no other way to describe it, Amy, it's like the boy STUDIED or something. Harry was sweet, but Draco knew the art of a good kiss and DAMN, it was nice. And his hands -- he made good use of his hands. REALLY good use.  
  
So you can see why I got a little caught up and the next thing I knew was Harry slamming the classroom door, having ran out.  
  
Draco released me immediately and I almost fell, my head was so buzzy. I turned around and we both stared at the closed door.  
  
I looked at Draco. His face was pained.  
  
"He likes you," Draco said softly, and for a moment I thought he was talking to the door because that's where his eyes were still focused.  
  
I shrugged. "Yeah." I knew he did, just like I knew Draco liked me despite himself -- but not at all in the way they felt about each other.  
  
He looked at me then and his eyes were wary. "What are you playing at, Eva?"  
  
Ignoring his question, I said, "You're in love with Harry, aren't you?"  
  
Took me awhile to noticed that those beautiful gray eyes were shining because they were filled with tears. "Yes," he whispered.  
  
I touched his shoulder, making him flinch. "Don't worry," I said lamely. "Everything'll be fine."  
  
"No." He shook his head, furiously rubbing the heel of his hand across his face. "You don't understand, you haven't been here all these years. This mess -- such a mess -- I'm sorry, Eva, I have to go." He got up quickly, a little shakily. Before he got to the door he turned as though he'd suddenly remembered something. "You won't -- if you tell ANYONE, especially -- I swear I'll --" His voice was shaking.  
  
"I won't. Promise." I solemnly held up a hand.  
  
He chuckled. "You're alright, Eva." And then he left and I went back to my own room.  
  
So now I'm sitting here the morning after. Aren't you proud of me? I made them make each other jealous! Okay, so maybe it wasn't fun to imagine the look on Harry's face when I was kissing Draco. But these are just bumps in the road. I can do this. I can hook up two boys who've been public enemies for almost six years.  
  
I CAN.  
  
Don't believe me, Amy? You just wait. I'm not through with them yet.  
  
  
Love from Evaphrodite 


	5. In Which Eva Screws Up

~~~~~~~~  
May 1st  
  
  
Amy, I'm an idiot. I'll spare you the details (and me the humiliation) but basically, I got them in a room alone together -- not an easy task, mind. They've been studiously ignoring each other since the Truth or Dare game. I pushed and prodded Draco, trying to get him to tell Harry what he told me, and they ended up cursing each other. I don't mean swear-cursing, I mean spells. And not a fun little curse like making each other grow neon hair in weird places, either; DANGEROUS, DAMAGING curses. Harry's in the nurse's office right now having his hands regrown (Draco made all the bones from the wrist down disappear). Draco is shut up in the Slytherin rooms with his head still on backwards (it'll go away in a few hours, but Hermione says if the spell is cast with a slightly different enunciation, it can make the target's head turn around and then IMPLODE).  
  
The professors are furious at the two of them. They're both going to be in big trouble. Meanwhile everyone thinks they were fighting over ME, and so they think it's all my fault. And it IS all my fault -- dammit, I'm so stupid! Whatever made me think I could just waltz in here and screw up people's lives like this? Why didn't you tell me that I'm an insufferable busybody?  
  
In your last letter you DID tell me something -- that I'm a slut. Well, fuck you anyway. I'm going to curl up with Chessie and try to forget I ever came to Hogwarts.  
  
---Eva  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
Author's Note: Next letter will be the last. 


	6. In Which All's Well That Ends Well

May 3rd  
  
  
Dear Amy,   
  
In the first place, I accept your apology. God knows we've called each other worse things in the eight years we've been best friends.  
  
In the second place, you don't have to worry about me fixing things. Things have fixed themselves. Don't believe me? Well, I just saw Harry and Draco snogging like they were going to swallow each other's tongues, does that convince you?  
  
Okay, you probably want a better explanation than that. Good thing it's all fresh in my memory.  
  
So I was going to visit Harry in the hospital ward, right? But just before I reached the door, Draco turned the opposite corner and swept in without seeing me. His head was normal again. I looked around, hardly daring to believe my luck, as no one was around and Madam Pomfrey -- that's the nurse -- was off somewhere getting supplies. Harry was the only one in the ward; his bed was partitioned off with a curtain. I crept in after Draco, sneaking up to the curtain.   
Now this next part I couldn't see, I could only hear what they were saying. So I'll write that almost exactly, because I remember it pretty well.  
  
Harry said, presumably the moment he saw Draco, "What the hell are YOU doing here?" But he didn't sound pissed, Amy, he just sounded tired.  
  
Draco was his arrogant old self. "Your guess is as good as mine, Potter."  
  
"And my guess is that you're here to finish me off."  
  
"Maybe I am."  
  
"So do it then. I can't hold my wand yet, you're safe."  
  
"I do things on my OWN terms, thank you, not because someone told me to."  
  
"Liar."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You heard me. Liar. You follow your sorry excuse for a father. You always have."  
  
"Do you understand NOTHING, Potter? Weren't you listening to that stupid game Eva made us play?" I resented that, but I couldn't exactly say anything. "Look, if I wanted to serve Voldemort, I'd serve him, dammit. But I'm not. I'm still stuck here in this pathetic excuse for a school, full of people I hate who hate me."  
  
"Why, though? Why are you still here?"  
  
"Because . . . because . . . I can't bring myself to leave. And don't ask me why not, because I don't KNOW why not."  
  
"All talk and no action." Harry quoted me! That was fun.  
  
"I suppose, if you want to think of it that way."  
  
"I don't want to think of much at all, Draco. I'm very tired and in a fair amount of pain and I'd like to know why you're here and -- why are you looking at me like that?"  
  
"You called me Draco."  
  
"Slip of the tongue, I meant 'sewer-dwelling wart-covered greasy ferret'."  
  
"Now who's the liar?"  
  
"Oh, shut up!" But he sounded a bit amused.  
  
They were both quiet for a moment, then Harry spoke again.  
  
"Why ARE you here, though?"  
  
"Brrcuziwanu."  
  
"WHAT?"  
  
I could hear Draco sigh. "Because," he said slowly, "I. Want. You."  
  
There was stunned silence on Harry's part -- or at least I assumed it was stunned. But then he said sarcastically, "Yeah, all right." He didn't believe Draco, not that I can blame him.  
  
"You want proof?"  
  
"Uh . . ."  
  
"I'll give you proof." And then there was a rustle of sheets, a surprised-sounding squawk from Harry, and silence again.  
  
I took the chance of peeking past the curtain and there they were, kissing. I could see that Draco was putting all that skill into practice. Harry's a lucky man. He really looked like he was enjoying himself, too.  
  
When Draco pulled back, I ducked into my hiding place again.  
  
"You---" Harry sounded out of breath. "You call that . . . proof?"  
  
"What?" Draco's voice was low and dangerous.  
  
"All I'm saying is, what a sorry kiss! You're going to have to show me some more proof than THAT if you ever want to be taken seriously."  
  
I heard Draco chuckle and when I looked around the curtain, they were going at it again. I suppressed an urge to do a Happy Dance and instead came back to my own room to write this letter, grinning like a maniac the whole way -- I'm STILL grinning like a maniac.  
  
Okay, Amy, maybe I'll give this place another try. I sort of like the atmosphere, after all.  
  
  
Love,  
Eva  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
Author's Note: I really grew to like Eva in this fic and in case you did too, she's a principal character in (begin shameless plug/) my brand-new Harry Potter musical fic, which I'm about to start uploading. "The Singing Dancing Shagging Monster": It's Harry Potter! It's a musical! It's a fun machine! Sorry, I'm really fond of the fic and will do just about anything to get people to read it. Except mime. Because mimes are *evil*. (/end shameless plug and pointless ramble) 


End file.
